


Hair Polish

by This-Is-Not-Overwatch-Fanfic (Hobbitfing)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hair Dyeing, M/M, No Smut, Short & Sweet, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 00:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12876636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitfing/pseuds/This-Is-Not-Overwatch-Fanfic
Summary: Roadhog missed being able to dye his hair. Junkrat doesn't understand making water undrinkable.





	Hair Polish

God, how long had it been since he’d had a shower? So fucking long. That was the first thing Roadhog did after Jamie and him broke into a suit’s giant fucking house. It was empty. _The bastard probably has more than one house_ , Roadhog thought.

There was a shower/bath combo on the top floor, but there was a big walk-in shower in the basement, past what looked like a teenager’s room. Hog turned on the water and stood under it for a good ten minutes, just enjoying the heat and the water running over him. Using so much water turned alarm bells on in his brain, but they could afford to use however much they wanted here.

Jamie was still exploring the huge house, even by the time Roadhog stepped out of the shower and started drying off. There was a blue container by the sink and he picked it up curiously. He grinned. Hair dye. It’d been ages since he’d dyed his hair. He used to have to bleach his hair to get any colour to take, but since the Omnium blew, his hair had been white. Well, Rat was busy, so he might as well take his sweet time. He worked the dye into his hair and while it sat, he painted his nails. Black matte. Whoever lived in the basement had good taste in nail polish.

“Made us a bed for the night. Well, a couple, just in case. And they’ve all got snacks.” Junkrat didn’t like beds—too high up, too obvious. He wasn’t going to sleep in the middle of a room, in a place that practically screamed _there’s an idiot here, and he’s asleep!_

He’d stripped the blankets and pillows off several beds, and found a few sheltered nooks. It was a little difficult to find a stealthy place that was also large enough to accommodate Roadhog, but that was part of the fun.

And, the stupid cunts’d kept all their food in one place, where anyone—like him, Junkrat—could grab the whole lot in one go. Junkrat had redistributed it into caches. Even if they couldn’t take all of it with them, the hotel could spend the next few weeks—months, if they were slow—finding it all.

“I—holy dooley, what happened to your hair?” Junkrat froze. His hand, holding a rice cake, was halfway to his mouth.

“Dyed it,” he grunted, taking the rice cake that had stalled on its way to Rat’s slack jawed mouth.

“Hair can _die_?!” Junkrat was too shocked to even try and snatch his food back or protest. He _loved_ Roadhog’s hair. His own hair was bad enough, but having to lose Hoggie’s too…? It was just too much.

“No, dye as in colour. I put blue colour in it,” Roadhog said around a mouthful of rice cake.

“Lemme see.” Junkrat jumped a little to grab Roadhog’s shoulders and pull him down. He inspected Roadhog’s hair carefully, combing through the wet strands and humming thoughtfully. “Smells funny.”

“It won’t last.” Roadhog shrugged, scooping Jamie up in one arm so he didn’t have to bend down so awkwardly.

“The smell?” Junkrat happily cuddled against Roadhog, continuing his examination. “Some of it’s on your skin up here, Roadie. I think it’s spreading. You sure it wasn’t mold? Why would you put blue in your hair anyway? How was there just…blue…sitting around?”

“Someone who lived here liked having blue hair.” Of course he’d gotten some on his skin, that was hardly surprising. “What’d you find in the house?”

“How can you just have blue hair?” Junkrat tugged at a lock of his own, holding the strand that pulled out against Roadhog’s. “Hair’s just…hair.” He caught sight of Roadhog’s hand. “Ohhhh! Is this like nail polish? For hair? Hair polish?”

“Something like that. Found nice nail polish too.”

Junkrat giggled with pleasure, climbing back down Roadhog. “So I see. I could use a touch-up.” He wiggled his fingers. His nails showed more nail than chipped polish, except for a strangely intact ring finger. “I found all sorts of stuff. Good stuff. Food. And there’s a big tank of water ’round back, under a cover and everything. Tastes funny, but it’s clean.”

Roadhog tilted his head. Sometimes he acted like he still had the mask on, emoting a little more than he would otherwise in order to be understood. His facial expressions were mostly unreadable but his body language was clear. He wasn’t sure what Rat meant by a big tank of water, so he headed to the backyard. He laughed when he saw the pool. “It’s a swimming pool.”

“Okay.” Junkrat shrugged. Roadhog knew the proper names for all sorts of things, but that didn’t change what they _were_.

Roadhog pulled back the pool cover, picked Rat up, and dropped him in the water.

Junkrat _screamed_ like he was being murdered—which he was. He splashed and flailed, but he’d never swum before and he didn’t know how to coordinate his limbs—and besides, the weight of his prosthetics kept dragging him down. He continued screeching, even as his eyes, nose, and mouth filled with water. That didn’t stop him from howling threats and obscenities at Roadhog.

Roadhog hopped into the water next to Jamie, creating a colossal splash. He grabbed his boss and put him up on his shoulder so he’d stop flailing.

Junkrat immediately wrapped both arms and legs around Roadhog, digging in. “Some bodyguard you are!” he hissed, directly in Roadhog’s ear, “trying to finish me off the first time you see an opportunity!”

Trying not to roll his eyes, Roadhog sat Jamie on the edge of the pool, urging him to take off his prosthetics. He saw something right by the edge of the water and grabbed them. Floaties. Perfect.   They were even orange. He blew them up and put them around Rat’s skinny arms.

Junkrat slowly subsided into glaring, grumbling, and occasional jabs at whatever part of Roadhog was closest, helping Roadhog take off his limbs. He automatically snapped at the strange orange things Roadhog shoved at him, but missed. “What’re these?” He flapped a little, awkwardly. “Haven’t forgiven you yet, either.”

“Mhm,” Roadhog put a big hand over Rat’s head affectionately, in a way he knew Rat loved. “They help you float.” He pulled him into the water again, more carefully this time.

Eyes still a little wide, Junkrat immediately started flailing again, but quickly realized that the orange things kept him at the water’s surface and more or less upright. He slowly, visibly relaxed, arms sticking straight out at his sides while his body bobbed between them. He flicked at the slowly spreading film of dirt and oil radiating out from him. “Probably should’ve rinsed a bit before putting me in. Don’t want to be drinking Jamison soup.” He pushed a strand of wet hair out of his eyes, then glowered at Roadhog. “Or maybe you _do_ , pig-face. Thought you didn’t like meat?”

“This water isn’t for drinking. It’s for this. Swimming.”

“Swim-ming.” Junkrat tried out the word experimentally, then shook his head. “They have all this lovely water just sitting around for…this?” He splashed away from Roadhog, quickly flailing back until he was close enough to latch on if he had to. “I mean…it’s kinda nice, but…fucking suits!” He laughed. “You do look nice with blue hair, though. You’re sure it’s on purpose? It’s not from the water or something, and you just don’t want to scare me because it’s too late and I already drank it but we’re going to die?”

Roadhog chuckled. “Idiot,” he said affectionately.

“Well it’s a reasonable question I think!” Junkrat protested, grinning in response. He flipped himself upside down, got stuck partway through, and frantically pumped his legs in the air until he managed to right himself again. “They just float around all day?” Junkrat was torn between utter confusion about the _point_ of having all this water and not doing anything useful with it, and the pleasant feeling of being suspended in warm water. Something occurred to him, and he grinned again. “Ohhh… Does it already taste this bad, so they just make the best of it?” Junkrat had come across plenty of foul-tasting sources of water in Australia. Some had made him sick; some hadn’t. To be fair, some of the ones that had tasted just fine had made him sick too.

“No, they make it taste like this.” Roadhog knew there was no way he could explain that one to Rat.

“Why would you _make_ water taste bad? So other people don’t drink it? Why not just shoot them? Do they want to save bullets?” Junkrat cocked his head to the side. “Come to think of it, I didn’t _find_ any bullets…”

“They don’t need to fight over water here, Jamie. They want the water here clean, since people are swimming in it, so they put chemicals in it. Safe chemicals.”

“Stupid,” Junkrat grumbled, flapping his arms a little to see how it moved him. “If you give me a few days, I could probably shit in it.”

“It’s nice to lay here though.” Roadhog could touch the bottom so he was just leaning against the edge, but he was very buoyant and it was easy to float.

“It is,” Junkrat agreed, reluctantly. With a little effort, he managed to splash over to Roadhog again, gently bobbing against his friend’s belly. “Making me sleepy,” he admitted, eyes drifting shut a little.

“Sleep. I’ll make sure you won’t drown,” Hog pulled Jamie to his chest, letting him relax against him.

“Love ya, Hoggie,” Junkrat murmured. “Blue hair and all.”

Roadhog kissed one of the bare patches on Rat’s scalp.


End file.
